


Witcher Prompts

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caring Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Detective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Fix-It, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kidnapped Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: A collection of my Tumblr prompts:1. emotional episode 6 fix-it2. jaskier whump and soft caring geralt3. modern au PI Geralt and kidnapped Jaskier
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed" for geralt/jaskier p l s

Geralt hadn’t meant the words he threw at Jaskier. He’d just been so hurt, overwhelmed by everything crumbling around him, that he screamed at the only person who remained despite everything. How he wished he kept his mouth shut, he thought as he watched hurt flash into the blue eyes. 

Jaskier slumped and backed away, as if he was a wolf ready to strike. He had never feared him, not even when he’d turned almost feral from a particularly difficult contract, but here, now, he smelled of the sour stench. He turned around and didn’t look back, soft brown hair blowing in the wind. 

_What you’re missing is still out there._

What a fool Geralt was.

His only redemption was he realised it soon enough to chase after the bard, his long strides hurried down the beaten up path. He sighed in relief when he spotted the telltale bright red of Jaskier’s outfit.

“Jaskier!”

He didn’t run, but it was just. Fortunately, the bard had heard him. Geralt saw him furtively wipe at his face before he turned, but he could see he’d been crying, blue eyes rimmed with red and lashes wet, his mouth downturned. He shifted his stance and crossed his arms as he stared at Geralt, frowning.

“Coming down to shout some more at me about how I’m the bore of your existence?”

“I’m sorry,” Geralt blurted out, heart pinching. Jaskier looked miserable, and he was the one to blame. “I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to shout at the sky and instead took my rage upon you. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

Jaskier slightly relaxed, sniffing, and looked surprised when Geralt gently took his hands to squeeze them. He was a tactile man, always had been with Geralt, but it was the first time the witcher reciprocated. 

“My real blessing has been you, at my side, for years despite me being…” He sighed through his nose, working his jaw. “Completely oblivious.”

“Geralt…” Jaskier started, a new flow of tears rolling down his cheeks. Geralt tugged him closer and clumsily wiped them, the tears smearing over his glove and Jaskier’s cheeks. So he did the next best thing instead and kissed them away, his lips lingering on the flushing skin. 

“Don’t cry.”

“You bastard,” the bard whispered at him, but there was no heat behind his words, only fondness. He curled a hand at the nape of his neck and brought their mouth together, and Geralt melted into him, any previous tension suddenly gone. They kissed and kissed in the middle of the path, Geralt intoxicated by Jaskier’s scent and touch, the feel of his lithe body pressed into his. 

They reluctantly let go of each other to continue down the mountains, walking close enough for their hands to brush against one another. Geralt entwined their fingers together and Jaskier beamed at him. Once they returned to where Roach was waiting for them, munching on tall grass, the way to the nearest town’s inn went by in a blur, Jaskier’s arms secure around his waist. Geralt paid for one room and up they were going, as eager as a newly wed couple. He barely had closed the door that Jaskier was pushing him back into it with his full weight, pressing hot kisses over his mouth and along his jaw. 

Geralt almost purred under the treatment, then used his hold on his hips to urge him towards the bed. He almost fell when his boot caught on one of the table’s legs in his haste to follow him. Jaskier giggled and removed his doublet, already working on pulling his shirt over his head while Geralt could only watch.

“Come on, then,” Jaskier beckoned him with a grin, falling on the bed, and Geralt followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Jaskier breaks his leg, maybe during a fight or an accident in dangerous terrain?"

If anyone was to ask, especially his worst enemy and lesser bard Valdo Marx, he injured himself while defending the White Wolf, Witcher extraordinaire, Geralt of Rivia from the vicious claws of the werewolf they were fighting. There would be no mention of the small rock that, in fact, was the culprit of Jaskier’s injury as he was backing away from said werewolf and caused his leg to twist unnaturaly and him to crumple face first into the dirt.

“I told you to stay far from the lair, didn’t I?” Geralt scolded Jaskier as he was helping him back to their camp, supporting most of his weight with a muscled arm wrapped around his waist. If the bard leaned more than necessary into Geralt, well, he was the only one to know. 

“And miss out on details you never deem useful to add? Unlikely to happen. Beside, the pain isn’t that bad.” At that, Geralt let him go. Jaskier swore as he instinctively put his injured leg down, and he quickly threw his arms around Geralt’s neck.

“Alright, alright” he conceded, puffing at the aching pain and the odd feeling of something in his knee clearly not properly aligned. “I’ve had better ideas. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Geralt hummed and grabbed him again. They finally reached their camp and Geralt helped Jaskier on a log. 

“Remove your trousers.”

Jaskier pouted as he untied his laces. “Definitively not the situation I dreamt of you saying that.”

He removed his boots and slightly lifted himself on his uninjured leg to slide down his trousers, grateful the current fashion favoured looser fits. Not everyone could pull off tight leather, after all. Speaking of which, the witcher washed his hands with their waterskin before he sat down before Jaskier. He pulled his foot on his thigh to inspect his knee. He was being careful, his prodding gentle as he shifted his knee from side to side and then extended his leg. It was already swelling and looking angrily red.

“It’s sprained,” Geralt concluded, his bare hand skimming down his calf. Jaskier tried his best not to show how much he was affected by having the handsome man right before him while he was only in his small clothes. Geralt left his position to fetch something in the saddlebags and he let out a silent breath, taking the few seconds to get a hold of himself. Him and his stupid ability to become enamored with anyone. Well, Jaskier had long passed that step with Geralt and was deeply in love with the man, not that he expected anything in return.

“What’s that?” He asked him, rubbing his thighs that were starting to get cold. Geralt had a small sealed vial in his hands, and through their numerous years together, it was the first time Jaskier was seeing it. 

“It’s going to help with the swelling and the pain, accelerate the healing,” Geralt explained, his voice gruff as usual, but Jaskier knew him enough, there was something more to it. He watched him apply the salve to his knee, most of his face hidden by white hair, his tie long lost to the werewolf. Without much thinking he brushed it back and froze, then slowly retracted his hand like he hadn’t done anything. Golden eyes peered up at him, unblinking for a second, and shifted down as Geralt put back on the lid. 

“I never saw you using this.”

“Because it doesn’t work for witchers, only humans,” Geralt said, suddenly hesitant. He didn’t back away however, warm fingers wrapping around one of his ankles. 

Jaskier needed a few seconds to understand, but when he did, hope blossomed in his heart. “You bought this for me. Because you knew this would happen and… you care for me.”

Geralt hummed, his face softening as a small smile appeared. “Took you long enough.”

Jaskier grinned and reached down to kiss him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A heart shattered, a crumpled notes, flowers wilted in the other hand, bracing agonist a brick wall”

At first Geralt felt his heart crumpling like the letter in his hand, having to lean against a wall so he wouldn’t crumble down on the muddy ground. He waited for the tears that burnt his eyes to fall, but they didn’t, his pain instead remaining inside. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to break down in some soddy alley, so he briskly walked back to his apartment that also served as his office. 

He snatched the bottle of whiskey sitting on his desk and poured himself two fingers. The burning sensation sliding down his throat grounded him, and he breathed better afterwards. He sat down in his chair with a heavy sigh, and it was a long time before he dared to look at the letter again.

He couldn’t believe the words written on it. All these years together, and Jaskier was telling him he didn’t love him anymore through a letter. Had he no more respect for him that he was unwilling to do so face to face? Geralt knew he was difficult and moody and grumpy, but Jaskier always told him it was charming and a turn on in certain situations.

There was something else in the envelope. A few wilted dandelions. He recognised those, Geralt had offered them to him on their first date, thinking it would please him. He remembered Jaskier shaking his head and telling him that it would be very cliché for them to be his favourite flowers. Clematis were. 

When Geralt meant to take the dandelions back, Jaskier had refused and claimed they would make a nice souvenir to cherish. He liked to keep small tokens of people or events, mostly bits and bobs surrounding him when he wrote songs that Geralt would shake his head at.

So for him to return the flowers now was unlike him. This whole thing was unlike him.

Geralt also noticed spelling mistakes as he skimmed through the words. Jaskier didn’t do those, and there was no doubt it was his flourished handwriting. No, there was something foul at play here. He examined the letter more closely, then noted down every mistake. 

It was a name.

Geralt felt like his heart stopped for a second before his blood started boiling with rage. Someone had taken Jaskier. Who would be foolish enough to kidnap a PI’s lover? Geralt wouldn’t sleep until he found out. 

It was a long investigation, with many people to interrogate and favours and wastes of time. Geralt wanted to rip his own hair out from frustation at times, but then he got confirmation of Jaskier’s location and there was no more time to lose. He recruited his friend and police officer Zoltan’s help to get him back, guns blazing. It was a sordid affair, his cocky kidnappers not expecting to be jumped on. 

“Geralt, you got my clues!” Jaskier exclaimed when he saw him. He was kept in a cage, clothes filthy but uninjured.

“I am never getting you out of my sight again,” Geralt grumbled as he worked on opening the cage. 

“I wouldn’t complain about it.“ 

It turned out he was kidnapped as an attempt to get a ransom from his wealthy father. The only detail they weren’t aware of was that his father hated Jaskier and hadn’t been in his life since he was 17. 

“They didn’t know you were a PI when they forced me to write you that letter. We need to improve your reputation,” Jaskier mumbled later, once they were back at Geralt’s apartment. His bathroom was equipped with a bathtub large enough for the both of them, which they were now taking advantage of.

Geralt hummed, pressed his nose in the crook of his neck. He smelled clean and relaxed, his heart beating regularly. He hadn’t been harmed in case they needed a proof of having him. He kept complaining about his outfit being completely ruined until Geralt promised him to buy him another one. “It allowed you to leave a coded message. How did you think of doing that?”

Jaskier snorted. “Geralt. I’ve been your secretary for years, I caught on a few tricks.” He continued stroking his arms, tracing the scars with a tender touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://cap-sweet-and-salty-sadness.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CaptainMarianna). I currently take commissions, you can find the infos on my Tumblr.


End file.
